


Brother! You're home!

by orphan_account



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Fluff I guess, Inspired by Art, M/M, abuubuuubuuu my babies are so cuuuuuteeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of "Loki misses his brother" by GoreChick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother! You're home!

**Author's Note:**

> For GoreChick and Aleah. Happy Avengers weekend!!

Inspired by:

[Loki misses his brother](http://gorechick.deviantart.com/art/Loki-misses-his-brother-291750461) by *[GoreChick](http://gorechick.deviantart.com/)

…..  
Loki awakes to a soft fog and an impatient morning mist breaking at his windows and cooling the floor beneath his bare feet. He stands, and peers around the room he calls his own. The walls, covered in pretty patterns and shelves draped with magical conundrums and tools. He stands up, throws his arms out and pushes, yawning and stretching out his sleep-heavy muscles. He pads, bare footed and cold, out of his gilded door and leaves it open behind him; to the left of the heavy silver hall and through a door much like his own. He knocks, before he enters, three swift hits and a hoarse, whispered, “Thor?”

There is no answer.

He pushes the cold metal handle inward and peers in at the empty room. He shivers, the room is colder than the heated hallway. A window is open, Thor’s clothes are gone, his boots gone, and his bed made. The room holds a soft feeling of loneliness, the kind Loki hasn’t had to feel for a long time. He sits down on Thor’s chair, and feels a slight pull. He turns, and belatedly realizes that Thor left his red, smooth cape on the back of the chair. Loki pauses, and then stands, fisting his hands in it. He sits down on Thor’s bed and pulls his feet up to his chest, taking a delicate whiff of the red fabric.

It smells like him, warm and husky, almost metallic and spicy. A sweet, hard, earnest scent that floods Loki with visions of childhood days spent teasing Sif and laughing, even after she had managed to beat both of them in training sparring matches. He remembers sneaking into the halls that were expressly forbidden, he remembers playing in the streets and facing the danger of an imagined lava floor. The scent pulls to him, the way it did when he was seven, had hurt his ankle jumping from a roof top, and Thor carried him home with his battle wounds. He had smelled this scent then, face buried in Thor’s gentle neck, sniffles only breaking the breaths of Thor he had taken.

He smiles into the fabric, and lays back on Thor’s sheets, the smell overwhelming him when his face presses against Thor’s pillow. He hums to himself, imagining Thor’s hunting. He would probably bring home a majestic boar or two for a feast of spoils, laughing with his fellow huntsman about the struggle it failed to put up against the great and mighty God of Thunder.  

He misses Thor, and imagines him close and arms around Loki, singing him softly to sleep the way he did when an untimely thunderstorm would rack Asgard and Loki would be unable to sleep. He smiles into the pillow. “Brother will be home soon.”

.....

Hours later, Loki breathes gently into the cape, body curled with the length of it, arms curled around a it, and sleeps, fitfully. He breathes to life even dreams, and his body rises and falls on Thor’s huge, over-soft feather bed. His hands pull at the soft cape the way they would a blanket.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice rumbles softly into the cold room, arm gentle on the curve of his brother’s arm, shaking softly. He smiles, and presses a bit harder. He shakes the man back and forward as he whispers to him, telling him soft stories about the range of his hunt.

He doesn’t notice the soft eyelashes blinking up and open at him, blearily. After a few seconds of light pause, Loki throws himself onto Thor, head in his neck and arms tight around him, fingers scrabbling and clutching at his armor.

“Brother! You’re home!” He exclaims, tightening his hug and smiling into Thor’s shoulder, widely.


End file.
